Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1887-04-09
A FRONTIER SKETCH.
BY THOMAS COLQUITT.
CHAPTER l

| lhlS Story was told to the writer beside
a miners camp fire in Southern Arizona,
one hot and sleepless night last summer,
by an ancient mariner of those western
wilds who, Judging from his personal APP
pearlnce, was probably out there some-
where prospecting when the country was
| created.
Cottonwood was small town of half u
| dozen log and adobe houses on the bank
of the San Juan. There were but two
stores in the place, and their principal
stock in trade consisted Of whisky, fire
| arms, and provisions, in the order named.
| Their customers were miners, hunters and
trappers, and Indians.
There is Il great difference, which you
| cannot understand, between the Cottonwood
of that day and the prosperous, rustling city
which now stands upon the same spot. Yet
| only few years have passed it seems
| when come to look back; only few years,
| but they have been long, long wasted years
| for me, as have plodded my way through
| life alone. l once planned it out differ
| ent; for few short months / was happy
| in the love of the fairest girl that ever trod
| this earth.
1 will commence at the first and tell my
story properly.
first white men who ever penetrated this
region, had died when l was but few
months old. My mother soon followed
| him, and was left 10 the tender mercies
| of Il Mr.. Charner. l never knew anything
concerning my parents people.
When ] was fourteen years OF age rail-
road was built to Cottonwood. After the
road came the inevitable newspaper, and
the LshmaeHte was established. Through
boyish curiosity visited the printing office.
The editor took q kindly interest in me
| and gave me work on the paper. He was o
kind hearted man, but entirely unsuited
for this country. He was always very kind
to me, however, allowing me to do all the
work in the office, as grew able, includ-
ing the heavy press work of the entire
edition of fifteen quires. One day, how
ever, in thoughtless moment he CHANGED
to contradict Diego Dan as to the quality
of pint of whisky. Dan started a grave
yard with the editor, and the paper passed
into other and more c0mpetant hands.
Diego Dan was the whitest man that ever
lived. He seemed to consider himself in
honor bound to provide for my future, after
he had so summary removed my late en-
ployer, so he administered on the editors
estate and gave me the Office. He often
asked me to Join him in excursions up the
river or out on the plains. 1 remained in
the office of the Ishmaelitc for four years,
closely at work, when one summer de-
cided TO take q months recreation with
Dan. He was q good fellow, as / have
said, well educated, handsome, and always
dressed well. believed him then to be q
dandy sort of hunter and trapper; but !
came to know afterward that, when out on
the plains. lie often compelled overland
Pold-seekers to pay heavy toll for crossing
the divide. But he was always good to
me, aud t was none of my business. He
Hr-Oe all
everyone shot we'll. and he could see an
object farther away than any person I ever
knew. One laughable popularity in his
craftsmanship was that at long range, he
always shot Indians in the legs. Many
supposed he did it on purpose, but he
explains d the matter to me in confidence.
| was then very sorry that he had not
taken long range shot at my friend, the
editor.
We started on our voyage up the river
early one morning in July. Against the
current our progress could not, of course.
be very rapid; We made fairly good time.
however, and were soon in the midst o,
some magnificent scenery. Diego Dan was
quite an artist with the pencil, as well IL
the pistol, and / readily recognized sew
eral pretty bits of scenery along the river
from sketches he had made on previous
voyages.
We camped The first night about fifty
miles above Cottonwood, very tired after q
days lard rowing Directly after supper
Dan rolled himself up in blanket, and
was asleep long before 1 closed my eyes
upon the b i.l:t stars glittering above me. ;
The second evening We reached the ruins
Of an old log house-we We're now among
the Aril oHa pine forests on the river bank.
The structure had originally contained sew
eral roo rs, but of these one alone was
standing, aud it offered bat slight protec-
ton in case there should be 9. storm during
the night.
"po you kEor tLat We are in haunted
house, said Dan TO me that night as We sat
at supper in the little :oom.
NO; do your
1T is said to be, was the reply by which
he eyaded direct opinion.
Why so:" asked, greatly interested.
"lon remember hcaling CT old man BGr-
ton. who was murdered Up here, with his
critic family, some three years ago?"
never heard TIE particulars of tho Af-
fair
We'll" Dan continued reluctantly
though could rnt ten understand why
he SHOULD disiiha 10 t2'l Ike sto:y, "Barton
!n'i .:e'", aud c;.cG Stopped over TO-.
scEc' al dI,t st ci;,.e ;'itu 10 old fellow.
Som, zones h. sGH! a.! a. L q tlip out o.
the li~,n' AID -A,' ! - you that an
other lime. He Mas ~ ~c>~ns,lc man, as
you WI conc,;.le 70 H-~s, would have
settled up ntr" So g: non civilization.
He pos esgcd II rea. 'i"A; Of money, or
or, at least, ! always considered him o
Weauay man.
"0no day VII lie intoxicated down s, Cot
tonwoad he shot an i:dian. Their Law is,
you know, lie FOR lie, and but for the In
t,"fercncc OF myself AID others it would
9aXG f aGppeSfed to De sp IS vi;
after big talk, shook hands with Barton
and declared themselves his good friends.
A short time afterward Barton and his wife
| were found dead in this very room. AS
they were scalped, it was, of course, the
work of the avenging Yumas."
| Where was the daughter of whom you
spoken" l asked, strangely interested.
| NO trace of her has ever been discov-
cred" replied Dan. ~ suppose she has
long since become the unhappy squaw OF
some chief. Poor little Dolores! she was
a sweet child, about fourteen years of age.
| pity her,"
"Why is the place said to be haunted?s
was my next question; but my lips were
forming the sweet name Dolores, Do.
| lores."
The Indians say that they can see bright